


there is no fate (but what we make)

by Larissa



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: F/M, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 18:43:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10837143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larissa/pseuds/Larissa
Summary: Seventeen-year-old Squall Leonhart is the cold, calculating Commander of SeeD, feared and respected in equal measure by his peers. Trained from a young age to take the role, he has never failed a mission. He can handle an assassination, even if it is in Timber.But why does he keep dreaming of a life he's never lived — the life of a Squall who's barely a SeeD?





	there is no fate (but what we make)

**Author's Note:**

> If you recognize the title, you are a Cool Person, and you might have an inkling of where I'm going with this. Or not. You're still cool.
> 
> Thanks to [runicmagitek](http://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek) for reading this over for me ♥

When Squall is five years old, a man comes to the orphanage to see Edea.

Squall pays him no mind. The man isn’t here to adopt him. No one is. Everyone else is gone — Quisty, Irvy, Sefie. It’s just him and Seifer now and no one wants them.

Besides, he can’t leave. How is Sis supposed to find him if he’s not here?

 

 

 

Six months later, Cid takes Squall to the newly established Balamb Garden.

 

 

 

Squall is eight when he’s called to the headmaster’s office for the first time.

It was Seifer’s fault. It’s always Seifer’s fault. Things between them have been the same since the day they met. This time would have been just like the others, too, if they hadn’t gotten caught. How were they supposed to know that the older students snuck into the Training Center not to fight, but to kiss each other? Squall thought it was stupid.

Either way, it had landed him here, in the headmaster’s office. It seemed so very big to Squall. Everything about Garden was _big_ , and had been since the day he got here. Garden dwarfed the size of the lighthouse by the orphanage, and the headmaster’s office seemed like it could fit Edea’s whole house in it.

Cid Kramer has a kindly look. Most of the time. Today the crinkles around his eyes are turned down and his mouth is set in a firm line. Cid is a man who can’t hide his expression — it’s all or nothing. His words are almost an afterthought to the way he looks.

At eight Squall knows none of this. He sees only the man he recognizes from speeches at regular times during the year and who occasionally looks in on his classes. He’s never been called in to speak with him like this.

“I’m very disappointed in you, Squall,” Cid says, and Squall shrinks even further. “I had hoped that you would find your place here at Garden. I see now a firmer hand is needed.”

Cid sighs. His shoulders slump as he leans forward on his desk. “Truly, Squall, truly… I wish nothing but to leave you as you are. To allow you to make these mistakes and learn from them. But we do not have that luxury.”

Squall doesn’t really understand what he’s talking about. “Sir?”

“There is a great task before you, Squall,” Cid says. “It has fallen to me to see you achieve it. This is your fate.”

“Fate? What’s fate?”

Cid ignores the question. “I’ve set up a private tutor for you. It’s clear I’ve let this association with Seifer Almasy go on long enough. My assistant will show you to your new dorms.”

“What? You can’t just—”

“You are meant for better things,” Cid says, and there is no longer any kindness in his eyes. “And for that you must be trained.”

 

 

 

At age twelve, Squall visits Galbadia as Cid’s page. He carries Cid’s briefcase, carries his coffee, and takes notes during his meetings. None of the delegates pay him any mind. Cid has long made a habit of bringing along a SeeD cadet to do his busy work. Something about showing off to people how young their candidates are.

He never tells them it’s a SeeD test. And this is Squall’s.

His task is to get a copy of secret mission orders against Timber for the resistance. All it takes is shadowing one of the generals from Cid’s meeting to his home, stealing his access key, and using it to break into the Galbadian military headquarters. Squall does it without tripping any alarms, and replaces the access key in the general’s house without being noticed.

When they return to Balamb with news of Timber’s successful uprising against Galbadia, Squall is sworn in as a SeeD.

 

 

 

Squall isn’t sure when Cid first told him he was going to be the commander. On some level he thinks he always knew. There are some things in his life that are like that. He knows he wasn’t born at Garden, but he doesn’t remember anything before it. He has always been here. He will always be here.

The role of commander, Cid tells him, is different from headmaster. It is to oversee and run SeeD, as well as lead high priority missions. It’s a role to which Cid is unsuited, but one he thinks Squall is perfect for.

Squall wonders if this is his fate.

 

 

 

There are stories at Garden about the “Ghost SeeD.”

He doesn’t have a squad. He only gets sent out alone. He doesn’t train with anyone else. He always gets the job done, so well that few have ever even seen his face. No one has spoken to him. No one knows him.

It takes Squall much too long to realize they’re talking about him.

 

 

 

Squall is sworn in as Commander of SeeD shortly after he turns seventeen.

Unofficially, he has been serving as acting commander for close to two years, mostly to cut down on Cid’s workload. Cid is a very good headmaster, but he has no sense of how to best assign SeeD. Squall wonders sometimes why Cid never tried to learn. It might have helped.

As Commander, Squall knows virtually everyone at Garden from their personnel files, but he knows very few of them in person. And they don’t know him. He never socializes. He doesn’t have time and he doesn’t care.

Even his teachers are gone. They weren’t SeeDs. Cid didn’t have any, back then. He’d hired other people to come teach. Squall doesn’t remember what happened to them after they left Garden. Doesn’t think it matters.

He has been sent out on assignment himself, now and then, but he only ever works alone. He doesn’t have a squad.

Squall, new SeeD Commander, looks out at the empty faces and wonders how he’s supposed to lead these people.

 

 

 

Seifer catches Squall in the hall one day.

If Garden has a pest amongst its SeeDs, it’s Seifer Almasy. Not that Seifer has managed to pass the test. He’s taken it more times than anyone else and he’s yet to achieve an adequate score. Perhaps if Seifer actually applied himself he’d find success, but he seems more interested in prowling about the halls with those two friends of his.

“Leonhart. Got a minute?”

Squall glances back at him. For the head of the self-proclaimed disciplinary committee, there are three separate things he could discipline the boy on right now. The casual use of the Commander’s name. The fact that Seifer’s not in his cadet uniform. Or perhaps simply that he’s not in class. Squall’s wondering which of them to start with when Seifer continues.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Squall raises an eyebrow.

“I want a duel. One on one. Your gunblade against mine.”

Really? That’s what Seifer stopped him for? “No.”

“Ha! That was fast! Are you that scared of losing?”

Losing to a cadet who can’t pass the SeeD exam? The idea makes Squall snort. “I don’t have time for this, cadet. Get back to class. And change into your uniform.”

Seifer balks, but Squall’s already turned away.

 

 

 

Squall sees Cid more than ever before now that he’s Commander. The purpose of Garden is to grow SeeDs, as Cid is fond of saying to potential investors, and the reality of their jobs means that almost all staff at Garden are SeeDs themselves. It’s the most efficient use of their resources.

Of course, there are some SeeDs who don’t work out that way. Squall pushes Quistis Trepe’s demotion orders across the table at Cid. “She’s not suited,” he says, for what feels like the fiftieth time and probably is. “I don’t care how much her students like her. Their SeeD exam scores are abysmal, and so are their test scores. She’s not _teaching_ them anything, she just lectures at them and expects them to learn that way.”

“She’ll grow into it,” Cid protests. “She’s young. You ought to give her more of a chance.”

“That’s why she should be _better_ ,” Squall snaps. “I’m done talking about this. She’s a great combat SeeD and we need her in the field.”

“Fine, fine,” Cid says, waving his hand. “I see there’s no talking to you when you’re like this. We’ve more important business anyway. Did you see the message from the Timber client?”

“What Timber client? We don’t have any Timber clients.” They couldn’t afford Garden.

“We do now. It’s a member of the resistance there.”

“What? But that conflicts with the Galbadia—”

“Oh, I dropped that. I really think we should do this Timber thing.”

This is what Squall hates most about Cid. Without warning, without so much as telling Squall, he’ll pick up missions he thinks better suit Garden and expect everything else to fall into place. “I have _half a dozen squads_ in Galbadia,” Squall says through gritted teeth. “I can’t just pull them all back for some Timber _thing_. Tell me you didn’t—”

“I recalled the squads this morning.”

Squall is not given to violent outbursts. He acted out in his childhood, certainly, but he has grown out of such tendencies. Instead, his glare turns so frosty it’s as if Shiva has joined the conversation. “If you don’t have a _damn_ good reason for this, I swear—”

“Every decision I make is for the good of Garden.” Behind his glasses, Cid’s eyes are glinting like steel. “In this, Squall, you must trust me. You will take the Timber mission. Personally.”

There is no protesting when Cid gets like this. All Squall can do is glare and mutter some sort of affirmation. He’s going to have to shuffle the entire rotation, he’s not supposed to be out in the field for three more months, and Timber is a powder keg waiting to blow right now, but apparently none of that matters to Cid, because he’s smiling and telling Squall that the client will meet with him at the graduation ball this evening.

Great. Just great.

 

 

 

Squall doesn’t care for the graduation balls. They’re an unnecessary expense on Garden. All this for one night of celebration? He could use that kind of funding for missions, and instead they’re wasted on these balls.

There’s no getting Cid to slash the budget for it, though. He enjoys these things too much. He spends most of them talking to potential clients and investors, always trying to bring more cash into Garden.

Whatever. At least it’ll be over soon.

“You’re the best-looking guy here. Dance with me?”

There’s a girl in a white dress in front of him. Not a SeeD, then, but that doesn’t mean much with all the outsiders here for the event. Security for the ball is always a nightmare. Why they can’t have it in Balamb is beyond Squall.

“I don’t dance,” Squall says. It’s the same response he’s been giving all evening.

This girl isn’t so easily deterred. She gives him a coy smile. “Not even with a client?”

His eyes narrow, and this time he actually _looks_ at her. There’s nothing remarkable about the girl — about his age, maybe, dark hair, round eyes, a ring hanging from her neck — but he looks past her, and catches Cid’s eye across the hall. Cid grins.

Ah. It’s her.

“For a client,” Squall agrees, and takes her hand.

 

 

 

Squall nearly walks out when he hears the request.

Ever since the initial Timber resistance five years ago, relations in that part of the world had oscillated between one extreme and the other. Recently Galbadia committed an enormous number of troops to the region, and requested SeeDs to crush the resistance for good. Even after Garden pulled its SeeDs out, Galbadia had successfully taken over Timber. Now, the President was due to travel there and declare Timber Galbadian territory once and for all.

What Galbadia didn’t know was that Timber had withdrawn its forces and allowed Timber to be captured, and had hired SeeD to deal the final blow: assassinating the president.

It’s beyond risky. It’s near-suicide. Squall doesn’t understand why Cid wants SeeD to take this mission. Why he wants _Squall_ to do it. And when he asks, he gets an answer he doesn’t expect.

“The president isn’t important,” Cid says. “The woman protecting him is. She will be in Timber. She is the one you must assassinate.”

“But why—”

“Please don’t ask any more questions, Squall. This is not about the client’s request. This is a request from me.”

Squall stops.

Cid has never made any formal requests. He has never seemed to have any need. All he cares about is Garden. This is his entire life.

Who is this woman?

Why does she have to die?

...It doesn’t matter. It’s been requested of him as a SeeD. He’ll do it.

“All right.”

“Thank you, Squall.” Cid has turned away from him. “Thank you.”

 

 

 

For the first time, Squall selects a squad to go with him. He cannot possibly accomplish this mission on his own. Zell and Quistis will do. Zell has been a SeeD for several months, and while this isn’t the kind of thing Squall would entrust him with on his own, Zell performs well under direction. As for Quistis, she has a cool head in combat and works well under pressure.

It’s awkward. He’d gone over the details of the mission with them before leaving Garden, so there shouldn’t be any issues with what they’re meant to do, but Zell keeps stumbling over his words every time he tries to start a sentence and Quistis won’t look Squall in the eye. If this keeps up they won’t even make it to Timber.

Squall stops them once they reach the train station. Their train isn’t arriving for another few minutes. It’s the last one of the day; they’re alone on the platform. “Is there some problem we need to address before we leave?” he asks.

Zell’s limbs go tight to his sides. “No! No problem, sir! I mean, Commander! Sir! All good here!”

“No, sir,” Quistis says. She grips her whip and doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Because if there is,” Squall continues, “this is your one chance to bring it up. This mission is too dangerous for anything to get in the way.”

Zell and Quistis exchange a look. Zell bites his lip and shakes his head. Finally the question bursts out of Quistis. “ _Why?_ ”

Squall doesn’t understand. “Why what?”

“Why did you bring us along?”

“I just told you. This mission is too dangerous—”

Zell shakes his head furiously. “Not for you,” he says. “You’re— you’re the _Ghost SeeD_. You’re the Commander. You’ve taken on hundreds of soldiers. You’ve _never_ gone on a mission with a squad before.”

He _has_ taken on hundreds of soldiers, but not all at once, and this isn’t that kind of mission. What kinds of rumors are flying about him now? Squall hasn’t been paying attention lately.

“Why did you pick _us?_ ” Quistis presses. “We’re not the best SeeDs. There are others with better scores — better records—”

Truth be told, he _would_ have picked other SeeDs if he’d had the chance. Neither of them have the experience in stealth missions he’d like, although they’ve been trained for it. But this mission had come up suddenly, and Squall had had to make do. “I picked the SeeDs I needed,” Squall says. “If you think you can’t measure up, SeeD Trepe, I invite you to stay here.”

“Of course not.”

The train is pulling into the station behind them. “Then come along.”

 

 

 

Squall remembers the train. Remembers the private cabin. Remembers Zell asking how much he knew about Timber. Remembers giving a basic history.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

 

 

 

When he wakes up, he’s on a beach.

There are SeeD cadets all around him. He can feel Shiva in the back of his mind but he can’t reach her. A hulking metal structure rests on the sand before him — his mind fills in the blank, it’s an assault ship. SeeD stopped using them several years ago, they were too expensive to maintain.

What is this? How did he get here?

“Okay, you are to secure the Central Square!” It’s Quistis, standing on the ship. Why is she wearing an instructor’s uniform? “Be sure to equip your GF before you head into battle!”

Squall feels himself nodding and turning around. He can’t seem to stop himself from doing it. Shiva slots into place, familiar and cold.

“Let’s move out.” Seifer runs past him, white coat flaring in the wind.

He _follows_ Seifer.

_Why?_

 

 

 

None of this makes any sense.

It’s like he’s watching from the back of his own mind.

He can’t speak. He can’t move. All he can do is watch.

Squall isn’t stupid. He recognizes where and when he is — it’s the assault on Dollet from a few months ago. He wasn’t here at the time; he was back in Garden, overseeing the operation. It wasn’t a difficult operation, and he’d seen it as a good opportunity for a field exam. Zell, the team captain, had passed with flying colors; Seifer had struck out on his own and received a failing mark.

So why was _Squall_ here, _now_ , following after Seifer as if he were in charge?

The assignment, as best Squall can tell, is to hold the Central Square. It’s a simple task, but it’s a key position during a battle like this. If the enemy takes control of this position, they could push forward to the beach and cause them to lose the ground they’ve gained. It’s important that they stay here.

He tries to say as much when Seifer decides he’d rather head up into the mountains and follow the soldiers, but his mouth won’t work. The opposite things keep coming out.

“I stand by the captain’s decision,” Squall says.

_Captain?_ Who put _Seifer_ in charge? Squall never would have made that mistake.

A grin spreads across Seifer’s face. When did he get that scar across his brow? It’s not bleeding, so it wasn’t during this battle, but it looks fresh. “...Captain's decision? You want to wreak some havoc too, don't you?”

“It's a good opportunity to test out my training,” Squall says. “Thanks to you, I feel like I can take on anyone. Even if they do fight dirty, like you.”

What is he saying? Of course he can take on anyone. He’s been _trained_ that way. What kind of dream is this?

It has to be a dream, of course. There’s nothing else that makes sense. It’s the most vivid, _real_ dream Squall’s ever had, but it’s not like this is really happening.

Seifer huffs. “You'll thank me when the time comes.”

 

 

 

They head all the way up the mountain. Along the way they run into a SeeD cadet Squall doesn’t recognize, which is strange on its own; he knows everyone at Garden by virtue of deciding their assignments and even in this strange dream where everything’s mixed up and backwards this is the first unfamiliar face.

Around then is when Seifer runs off on his own. Squall’s surprised it didn’t happen sooner. The girl ends up joining him and Zell. She introduces herself as Selphie.

At least then the two of them start listening to him.

Now if only he could get himself to listen.

 

 

 

The rest of the mission goes about as Squall expects from the after-action reports he read. There are a handful of soldiers at the Communication Tower, easily dispatched; the real trouble comes from the monsters in the area. Afterwards the team is ordered to withdraw to the shore, only to be beset by one of the Galbadia mobile weapons, X-ATM092.

His SeeDs had taken it down without trouble; they had knocked it off the bridge leading to town. Not so in the dream. They lead it on a chase through the entire city — don’t they know the damage will come out of SeeD’s budget? — until finally one of the assault ships takes it down. It’s a closer shave than Squall’s ever had in a mission.

He doesn’t get a chance to enjoy it.

 

 

 

Squall wakes up sprawled on the floor. The train car is shaking back and forth beneath him. The voice on the intercom is repeating a message over and over. They’re nearly to Timber.

Nearby, Zell and Quistis are stirring. Both of them have remained in their seats. Squall groans and pulls himself up. His head aches.

“Were we… all asleep?” he asks.

“Seems like it,” Quistis says.

“Maybe someone released some sleeping gas?” Zell suggests. “There’s lots of people who resent SeeD.”

It’s a possibility — a likely one. Has someone learned about their mission? Squall checks over his possessions, but nothing is missing. The door is still locked. “There’s no sign anyone entered,” he says. “Still… be on your guard.”

“Yes, sir,” Quistis says.

Zell is staring at him. There’s an odd look on his face. “What?” Squall asks.

“Ah— n-nothing, sir,” Zell stammers. “It’s just— I had a weird dream about my SeeD exam. It’s nothing.”

Quistis looks up. “The Dollet mission?”

“Yeah.”

“...I had the same dream.” Quistis’s stare turns to Squall. “You… _you_ were there.”

They both have that look again. That uncertain, hesitant look, as if they’re not sure whether they’re allowed to speak to him. It’s time to stop this before it goes anywhere. “Whatever you’re talking about, it’s not relevant to the mission,” he says. “Prepare yourselves. We’re almost there.”

They need to move as soon as the train reaches the station. Their mission begins the moment they reach Timber. Squall had meant to use the time on the ride over going over the details again, to ensure that they had everything memorized, but they’ve lost the opportunity. They’ll have to play it by ear.

He doesn’t have time to think about a dream.

 

 

 

An ocean away, Ellone breaks the connection.

That… wasn’t supposed to happen.

**Author's Note:**

> So here's the thing.
> 
> This fic is a work in progress, and an early one at that. Normally, I wouldn't post it at this stage. When it comes to longfics, I try to get them written in full before posting in order to iron out the plot.
> 
> However, as much as I like this idea, I'm uncertain about committing to writing it in full. This is for two main reasons:
> 
> 1: I've never written _FFVIII_ fic before. I'm pretty familiar with the game and the setup of this fic in particular gives me a little leeway with characterization, but it's still pretty daunting.
> 
> 2: I have no idea if there's any interest in this idea! This is the more important one. I haven't finished outlining this fic, but my guess is that it's probably going to be between 30k-50k. So it's not an insignificant undertaking. (Naturally the first idea I get for a _FFVIII_ fic is an AU longfic...)
> 
> **So what does all of that mean?** It means that if you'd like to see more of this, then tell me. Leave a comment. Subscribe. The whole reason I'm posting this is to gauge interest. I really like this idea and I'd like to write the rest of it, but I haven't been able to find motivation because of the above reasons.


End file.
